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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564586">Alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbhprincess/pseuds/dbhprincess'>dbhprincess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No Longer Alone [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Hope, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:54:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbhprincess/pseuds/dbhprincess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hank feels alone, Connor is alone, and everything hurts.</p><p>A HankCon AU inspired by the 2015 film <em>The Martian</em>. Takes place before the events of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465250">No Longer Alone</a>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No Longer Alone [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was first written as part of a <a href="https://twitter.com/i/events/1294694026780631042">thread series</a> on Twitter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the broken antenna ripped through Mars’ weak atmosphere and pierced Connor’s side, it hurt, but only for the few agonizing seconds that passed before he abruptly blacked out.</p><p>-----</p><p>On his own suit’s readout, Hank watched in horror as the pressure in Connor’s suit dropped and his vital signs flattened. There must have been a breach in his suit, one he didn’t survive. Buffeted by the force of the storm around him and the disbelief raging inside him, Hank felt a pain he’d only felt once before, one he’d hoped to never feel again, and it hurt.</p><p>Strapped into his chair in the MAV, stinging eyes resolutely avoiding the empty chair beside him, Hank confirmed the order to launch. He had nodded his head, face stiff and numb, but regulations required a verbal response. He could barely force the cracked word past his aching throat. It hurt.</p><p>As they rocketed into orbit, abandoning the surface below, the pressure of the ascent couldn’t compete with the crushing weight of Hank’s despair. Connor was gone, Hank knew he was gone, but he also knew he would always wonder, would always question the decisions he had just been forced to make. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.</p><p>Back in the spacecraft, Hank stared out the porthole window as they orbited Mars, waiting for the airlock to pressurize. He was surrounded by four other people, but he felt so alone. Alone in his culpability, alone with his guilt. He was the commander, he was responsible, and Connor was… Connor… Jesus. Connor was gone, and it <em>hurt</em>.</p><p>-----</p><p>Connor woke to an alarm blaring in his ears and pain screaming in his side. It <em>hurt</em>. He was face down on the ground, his face shield half-buried in sand whipped up by the storm as it passed. For a moment, he wished it would come back to finish the job and end his misery. But Connor was no quitter, so he picked himself up, sealed the hole in his suit, and stumbled back to the Hab.</p><p>When he saw that the MAV was gone, the sudden rush of adrenaline sent a painful jolt to Connor’s heart and his stomach on a nauseating dive. He’d been expecting it; he knew why his crewmates – why his commander – had left him alone, knew they had done the right thing. But the shock of reality still hurt.</p><p>So Connor entered the Hab, stripped off his suit, and cleaned and stapled his own wound closed. And it all hurt. But it hurt more when he shuffled to the bunk area and cast his eyes over the stranded belongings of five people who were very much not there anymore.</p><p>He sank, slowly, carefully, onto a bunk; he didn’t know which. While his thoughts skittered in a daze, his feet had carried him there of their own accord. He took one, two breaths, as deep as his protesting side would allow, and the bleary haze misting the edges of his vision cleared. Turning his head, Connor saw…Hank. It was Hank’s bunk he’d gravitated to, Hank’s presence he had sought. He snorted softly, shaking his head before dropping it into his hands. He was hardly surprised, but still, he couldn’t stop the hurt.</p><p>Connor closed his eyes, and his mind flashed back to that day in the Rec when Hank had called him smart and stubborn (not for the first time) and ruined the intricate card tower he’d built. But he hadn’t minded at all because, intentionally or not, Hank had revealed that he felt more for him than easy friendship. So Connor had begun to hope, then to plan, for the possibility of building something between them, of building something lasting together. And he wanted that possibility again.</p><p>Connor sighed, soft but deep, then squinted down at his feet. No, he couldn’t do much about the hurt, but he could do something about his situation. Hank was right; he <em>was</em> smart and stubborn, and he excelled at two seemingly opposing, but very useful specialties. If anyone could jury-rig a way to stay alive on this hellish rock long enough to be rescued, it was him.</p><p>Connor lifted his face and straightened his shoulders. “Well, shit,” he said, to no one but himself. “Guess I’m doing this, then.”</p><p>He was alone, and he was hurt. But he was alive, and he had hope.</p>
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